In Search of Something Sweet
by Dark-Dreymer
Summary: Sometimes he feared for his sanity. Other times he was sure he lost it long ago. Dark, with implications of underage sex.


He was Will once; kind-hearted, friendly, dependable and appropriate William Schuester. Now he is someone else, reminiscent of Nabokov's hated protagonist, he is Humbert Schuester holding up the appearance of his former, purer self while his heart and loins burn with desire for his own Lolita, his darling Finn.

Finn Hudson is no nymphet, no faunlet. He is not promiscuity wrapped up in innocence, but rather the earnest naivety and sexual innocence of a child precariously contained within the hormone-driven body of a boy on the cusp of manhood. He is oxymoronic, sturdy and yet fragile. The anti-nymphet, and Will-cum-Humbert wrestles the demonic desire to shatter that schoolboy innocence.

The Scripture says the end shall come with seven angels and seven trumpets. His own end comes after a seven-part rendition of 'Today 4 U' when Finn lingers timidly, and if his declaration had been timid too perhaps Will may have found some strength and defied temptation yet again; but Finn's words held no fear, not hesitation; as only those who have lived all their life in the light can act when facing a journey into the dark.

His lips were soft and sweet like cherries. Will silently greeted his fellow Fallen.

Finn shared his world with Will, his meadow of innocence. The teacher stepped carefully but could not prevent the crushing of flowers beneath his feet; his vulgar, man-sized feet that should not be venturing onto this youthful ground. The young non-nymphet gathered flowers for his companion with determination and delight, but not concern. Will held the wilting bouquets and inhaled the cloying scent of decay, mourning the aroma they once gave so willingly.

The earth of the meadow was salted with his seed and then his tears, painful wails as Will came to realize that these flowers would not grow again; would not give their unique scent to any other. Finn lay peacefully beside him on the desecrated soil.

Just as he lay content on the altar of freshly plumped cushions and let Will leave rosy blotches on his satin-soft skin and devour marzipan kisses in search of sweetness, a search that more oft that not ended with bitter results.

Will was a thief, and the worst kind of thief as he was stealing what could never be returned. But he was also an addict, plundering again and again even when he knew it was wrong as he desperately sought out caramel sweetness.

He lived in fear. The fear of discovery.

His desired, despised non-nymphet liked to playfully preen in his presence and he was ever afraid of a slip in his vigilance, a slip of the mask that would reveal the dreaded Humbert that lurked underneath his modest disguise.

Sometimes he feared for his sanity. Other times he was sure he lost it long ago.

More than that though he feared losing Finn. To some Clare Quilty figure or to Finn's own steadily growing maturity. In the end the inescapable phantom of college stole Finn from him.

The wasteland of Will's life without his much-needed non-nymphet stretched into seeming eternity and madness danced teasingly on the edges of his mind. Like one stranded in a desert would crave water, he craved Finn. Memories offered temporary relief, but at the cost of spiky guilt and dissatisfaction.

A visit from Finn after months of isolation and withdrawal was not an oasis in his desert so much as a monsoon. Pain and lust and turmoil fighting alongside relief and joy. Fingertips and candyfloss lips, hips and cocks and faster, slower, deeper, harder, closer...

The devastation of the storm ended with Will in bed the following morning with only crumpled blankets for company. The emotions that had warred inside of him in the night lay strewn about like wreckage on a beach and he lay numbly alongside it, the tide of grief lapped at his toes; eager to wrap its icy grip around his legs and drag him down once more.

Finn was like the sun emerging from behind a cloud and the shipwrecked victim simply had to turn his head to greet him. He was rumpled but blissful with two mugs of steaming coffee. Will accepted the coffee and the soft kiss that came with it and sat watching the man he'd broken in confusion.

The flowers were gone, but Finn had opened the gate to the meadow and led the older man by the hand inside. His innocence was gone but his optimism had never wavered, Will's bitter plundering had not corroded it.

In cum-stained underwear, drinking pitch-dark coffee from a novelty mug and a small, but eloquent smile on his face Finn spoke three small words that shifted Will's perspective, made everything fall into place.

Their relationship was not the damnation of Finn's innocence, but the restoration of Will's own. Heart brimming with undiluted, uncomplicated, uncorrupted love Will reciprocated his lover's simply worded sentiment and drank deeply from his mug. The coffee was sweet.


End file.
